


Alias

by starprise_entership



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, because why wouldn’t he, quark’s has an arcade now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 07:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13735932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starprise_entership/pseuds/starprise_entership
Summary: Something’s going on at Quark’s late at night.





	Alias

The young man yawns as he keeps his footsteps as quiet as possible. He’ll be right on time when the bar closes at 0200, if he walks any faster. It’s been a restless night, and he knows exactly just what he needs for him to get that much needed sleep.

He swings by the door of the bar just merely five minutes before closing time. “Hello, Quark,” he announces, softly, as he sits down at the bar. The Ferengi bartender gives a grumpy huff.

“I was just about to close. Don’t you know I don’t like being kept past closing time?” Quark crosses his arms. “Anyway, I wouldn’t mind earning a bit of extra latinum.” He gives a toothy smile. “What could I do for you tonight, Doctor? Some brandy?”

Bashir hands over the latinum. “Yes, please.”

“And do make it quick.” Quark says, pocketing the latinum and turning his back to Bashir. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“What’s that going on back there?” Bashir cranes his head towards the back of the bar where the arcade machines are sitting. If he focuses, he’s hearing some muffled drum beats coming from afar. “I’m going to be back very soon.”

He silently tiptoes over to the arcade section of the bar, as quiet as a mouse. He’s about to wave off the music as nothing out of the ordinary, but then he spots Garak out of the corner of his eye at that arcade dance machine. Garak, pleased with himself, has just finished a round. _Damn, he just missed my high score!_ Bashir marvels, a bit miffed.

“Don’t think I can’t see you, Doctor.” Garak announces, smug. “You’re standing right behind me, aren’t you?”

Bashir scowls, in a mildly disappointed manner. “And I thought I could give you a surprise.”

“At this hour?” Garak pokes back. “Oh, you are ambitious. You know I’m usually quite active at this hour. I’m used to it.”

“And aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing at Quark’s at this hour?” Bashir prompts.

“You can’t sleep.” Garak replies, in a matter-of-fact sort of way. “You’re usually asleep at this hour.”

“Yes, indeed.” Bashir agrees. He squints at the screen. “Did you just use an alias?” He pulls back. “And how fitting. You just happened to use the word ‘alias’’.”

“Well, what else could I do?” Garak shrugs. “It was an obvious choice.”

“I’m sure something could be done about your sense of humour, then.”

“Hey, gentlemen,” Quark’s footsteps approach, evidently annoyed. “I’m going to close this bar right now, whether you’re still here or not.” He holds up the glass in his hand. “Doctor, I’d advise that you just take this glass and go somewhere else to drink. I’m not going to entertain you for much longer.”

“Alright then.” Bashir takes the glass and takes a sip. He turns to Garak. “Your quarters or mine?”

“What an invitation, Doctor.” Garak points out. “Well, who am I to refuse? Lead the way, Doctor.”


End file.
